


The Raylans' First Christmas

by My_Dear_Watson



Series: Locked Out of Eden [5]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Also ignores some basic science but oh well, F/M, Multi, New Dawn? What New Dawn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 12:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17060177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Dear_Watson/pseuds/My_Dear_Watson
Summary: What remains of Hope County experiences its first post-Collapse snowfall. It makes everyone nostalgic for the old holiday seasons, but when Nicolette Raylan finds out that it won't just be her son's first good holiday season but John's as well, she's determined to make it a memorable one.





	The Raylans' First Christmas

“MOM, DAD! MOM, DAD! MOM, DAD!”

John was the first to wake at the sound of him and Nicolette being called. It was nothing new, but there was that childish over-excitement to it- the one that you needed a lot of energy to keep up with. And since him and Nicolette had been up since 2am making up for lost farming time since two other county residents had fallen ill with the flu, he wasn’t ready quite yet. He reached over to Nicolette and nudged her shoulder. “Your turn.”

“A wise king once said ‘before sunrise he’s your son’,” she answered groggily.

“That king sounds like an idiot who doesn’t understand how children work.”

“He likes you better,” she countered, then snuggled deeper into the blankets.

Before John could protest that, their bedroom door burst open and Cal shot across the room and took a flying leap onto the bed beside them. “There’s white stuff outside! “

Now that got their attention. ‘White stuff’ after a nuclear apocalypse years ago made for way too many possibilities. Sure, they weren’t dead, so it wasn’t like it happened again, but ash wasn’t exactly out of the question- and it looked white under the right lighting.

“What do you mean white stuff?” John asked.

“It’s all over the ground and the trees and the house and it’s wet and freezing and-”

John was about to protest that his son had just gone and investigated an apparent possibly dangerous mystery on his own when he registered the rest of the sentence. Well, that ruled out ash and made it go straight to snow.

Was that even possible after nukes? Then again, the seven years had been up for a few months now- and well, it was Winter if he did the math right- and a winter in Montana at that.

Cal reached for both of their nearest hands and tugged on them. “Come on!”

“We’re up, we’re up!” Nicolette replied. “Get your jacket and gloves on first!” she called.

Cal nodded quickly and bolted from the room.

John sighed. “How the Hell have we never explained snow to him?” he turned to look at Nicolette, only to see that her side of the bed was suddenly vacant. “Wha-” there was a thud off towards the left and he looked towards the sound.

Nicolette was half jumping, half stumbling into a pair of his workboots. She hurried into their closet and came back with one of his warmer jackets on. “Not that I’m not thoroughly enjoying that sight, but what’s the rush-”

“Because it’s the New World’s first snow! And it’s most likely safe! And I’m not missing my kid’s first time playing in the snow either!”. Her face fell a bit when he merely continued to blink at her. “Tell me those assholes kept you inside the whole time and killed your excitement over the first snow of the season.”

John shrugged. “I… there was always something else to do. The charm of it was kind of gone by adulthood.”

She gawked at him, then immediately went back into the closet and got one of his other jackets and pairs of boots. She all but threw them at him. “We’re having two firsts, then!” she insisted. When he didn’t move, she hurried over to kiss him and he leaned into it on instinct. She looped the jacket around his shoulders at the last second and pulled so he had to sit up more and scoot forward to keep balanced.

He sighed and started pulling it on. By the time he was done she was already halfway down the stairs with Cal just in front of her. He went down after them.

Cal threw the back doors open and bolted outside and Nicolette followed eagerly, laughing all the while. The second they made it into the middle of the yard, John understood- from the childhood wonder and adulthood nostalgia of it all.

Cal was looking at the snow with some apt fascination. He reached out to touch it, then once he did, he immediately shoved both hands into it and started to swish it around and pile it up. Sure, it wasn’t packing quality yet, but it was almost comical how he immediately had an idea of what to do.

And then there was Nicolette, with that same fascination in her eyes, looking from Cal to the snow and back every so often before she had sat down to join Cal in piling it up in a ‘snow’ castle, once Nicolette had said the actual word.

Cal was having what should have been a fun memory, albeit many, many years late, and enjoying it and he was happy. He was probably not going to forget it. There, his son had something he never did that was _good_ , and he didn’t even have to do anything.

And John’s heart had never felt so full in his life.

Nicolette whispered something in Cal’s ear, and the boy turned around. “Get over here and help, Dad!”

John went over, merely content to just watch them for a while.

“It’s Christmas, y’all!”

John had barely registered the voice before a heavy weight hit his back and sent him to the ground. It took an extra second for him to realize the voice belonged to Sharky, who seemed absolutely fine with just laying there on top of the other man. “Off!” he ordered.

“Buzzkill,” Sharky accused before he dumped a handful of snow into Cal’s hair and ruffled it. “Who’d a thunk we’d have snow after a nuclear apocalypse?”

“It _is_ Montana,” John pointed out. He finally managed to shove Sharky off of him.

Sharky shrugged and wedged himself between the other two adults. “Guess so. Also it _is_ almost Christmas. If Dutch’s day count-calendar-thingamajig isn’t far off, we’ve got like, two weeks to go. Which is the thing with this snow, like we should be buried in it by now. Anyways, we should do something.”

“Such as?” John asked.

“I dunno, Christma-Hana-za-vus,” Sharky offered, then made a face. “Make our own. Deputy-mas. Depmas. Hell Nic, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, it should be your holiday- Nicmas.” When the other two merely set him with one of their albeit affectionate ‘are you kidding?’ looks, he shrugged. “What? A gift here and there, some Christmas cheer, some lights and shit. It’ll be great.”

“Tell you what, Babe, you organize it, we can do it,” Nicolette offered.

“Awesome!” Sharky beamed before dropping a quick, sloppy kiss on her cheek. He hopped up in order to reach over and ruffle Cal’s hair. “Come on, Little Man. You’re helpin’!”

Cal cheered and immediately chased after Sharky when the man took off running.

“... The ranch is going to be a burned wreck by the end of the day with those two in charge, you know that, right?” John asked.

“Oh, let them have some fun!” Nicolette protested. When John went to stand, she rolled over and tossed one leg over his hips to keep him down. “Nu-uh. Sit here and relax. Do the kid thing and look up at the snow for a while.”

“My wife just _straddled_ me. I’m not exactly thinking about doing any ‘kid thing’ unless it involves _making_ them.”

“Mm. Tempting, but you’re gonna have to work for it.”

“And how, praytell, can I do that?” he countered, making a point to run his hands over her ass.

She scoffed, then leaned over to kiss him again-

Or, at least, he thought she did, because he barely felt the ghost of her mouth on his before there was suddenly something wet and so freezing cold on his chest it burned. He bucked up in a panic.

Nicolette fell back into the snow, giggling all the way.

John gawked at her for a moment, then looked down at the snow that she had unceremoniously dropped down the front of his shirt. He patted it so it scattered. “What was that?”

“That was another first you needed. It’s only fair, the way you’re dressed,” Nicolette gestured at the line of his chest that was exposed between the lapels of his jackets. “I mean really.”

“Yeah? What happens when I freeze to death because of that snow?” John countered.

“A, you were halfway there with that getup, B, I marry Sharky, obviously.”

“That’s not funny,” John objected.

“It’s a little funny,” she replied.

John reached for her and she darted backwards, grinning all the way again.

After a moment, her eyes absolutely lit up again. “Come on, Yes Man,  it’ll be like the old days. Catch me if you can,” she teased before darting away.

“That’s not funny either!” John pointed out, but still went after her.

“Damn right. It’s _funnier_!” she called.

There was truth to both statements. If the sight to behold of the former herald giving chase to  the shrieking hero of the Resistance had happened eight years prior, there would have been panic and worry- and a few guns would probably be brought out. But at present it was the very picture of relaxation and happiness.

After a few missed grabs put enough distance between them, Nicolette scrambled to scoop up some of the snow on the ground, balled it up and threw it at John’s face. It landed a direct hit.

John sputtered for a while, pausing only when Sharky called out for him to ‘Get ‘er back, Johnny!’ from a ways away.

He had listened, and he had only thrown about three snowballs before he immediately understood the draw of it all. Even when they all went wide. He tried a few more and a couple of them hit her neck and shoulder. He gave up after a couple of more misses and gave chase again.

After about twenty missed grabs, Nicolette took pity on him and zigged when she should’ve zagged, and John took her to the ground with him, letting his back take most of the impact. He immediately flipped them over so he was on top of her, peppering her cheek and jaw with kisses. “Gotta say I do like how this version of the chase ends more than the ones in the old days…” he mused.

“Seconded,” she agreed, ducking so his mouth caught hers.

“Do y’all get a room _ever_?!” Sharky called, though his voice had gotten louder and closer as the sentence went on.

“We try to, and then some idiot with a ridiculous name always shows up unannounced,” John countered.

Nicolette went to say something, whether it was to defend Sharky or agree with John neither would know, considering John had taken her distraction as a window to take a handful of snow and shove it under the hem of her shirt.

She shrieked again and wiggled to get away from him. It failed miserably considering he had leaned into her to keep her still, and she gave up. “This was fun,” she mused.

“Absolutely. Let’s do it again sometime,” John teased.

She beamed and pulled him in closer. “Good. My work here is almost done.”

“Almost?” John asked, just as something hit his back and stayed there, splayed across it.

The culprit immediately started giggling. “You guys heard Uncle Sharky!”

John turned over in place so Cal ended up slotted between them. “Sometimes it’s nice not to hear him.”

Nicolette leaned up. “What do you think, Kid? Should we introduce your dad and you to some Christmas traditions? Find a way to make cocoa, chop down a tree, put it in the corner of the great room and put some presents under it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cal modded eagerly.

“Good, go find your uncle, I’m sure he’ll want to get decorating going,” she instructed. “Let’s get some holiday spirit going on in this county.”

Cal beamed and raced off.

“You are far, far too eager about this,” John mused.

“Hey, Christmas time is my favorite time. And we’ve got the biggest place around. And my two boys haven’t really experienced Christmas, and that’s gonna change. Come on, you’re helping with a tree.” She scooted under his arm and then slid out from under him entirely, hopping up to head to the recently assembled shed.

John groaned. “You know, someone is bound to have a fake tree laying around somewhere. I mean, the trees that are alive are still young, let them live,” John countered.

“You will not ruin our fun for being your old, materialistic Scrooge self.”

“I’m Scrooge just because I’m protecting the New World?”

“Yes,” she agreed. She went back to him, took his hand, yanked him upright. “We’re gonna make this a good first Christmas for everyone.”

“Oh, but I’ve got you and the kid- a loving family, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Nicolette turned and frowned at him for a second, unsure of just how loaded the statement was, even if he had promised her so many times he had never lied to her, even as they were enemies, and he would never. He looked guarded but open all at once, so she beamed and pulled him closer. “That is very romantic and I love you, and that makes me endlessly happy. But that still doesn’t get you off the hook.” She tugged on his hand again, and reached the shed. She found an axe and headed back out towards the airstrip, with him following curiously behind.

Secretly, Nicolette had half a mind to go find _their_ tree to make a point, but the damn thing had somehow gotten petrified in the Collapse. Because apparently divine intervention was never going to be done with them and symbolism _ever._

After about twenty circles around the middle of the woods, she settled for one of the biggest trees around and went to work cutting it down.

John merely stayed back and watched.

Nicolette caught him after a couple of minutes. “Old habits die hard? Afraid to see me with a weapon?”

“You still grossly underestimate how attractive I found you with a weapon whenever it wasn’t pointed at me,” he admitted.

She scoffed, then went back to work. Once it only had a couple of swings left to go, she nodded behind her. “Alright Flyboy, move and get ready to help me carry this thing.”

John grunted, and once they got settled and found a decent enough way to carry the tree, he finally spoke again. “And what’s your plan for keeping this upright?” John asked.

“Rocks.”

“Rocks?”

“ _Rocks_.”

 

* * *

 

John wasn’t quite sure what to think when Nicolette turned out to literally mean rocks. It was a strange sight, seeing the tree propped up in the corner of the room, held up by a few rows of cut stone from what used to be his driveway, like someone would have piled up to keep a beach umbrella in place.

Still, seeing Cal and Nicolette darting around it, shoving cut up paper decorations onto it in place of ornaments made his heart ache in the best way again.

Nicolette was right.

This was what he really had missed out on. And here she was, doing it for him to the best of her ability, and if he hadn’t been the most in love with her as he could possibly be, that would’ve done it.

He hadn’t even minded the fact that Sharky’s attempts at holiday decorating ended up with crudely tied together pine branches thrown up onto the rafters. He had been enjoying watching for a while until Cal had snuck up behind him and pushed him towards the tree, insisting it was his turn to help.

It wasn’t long before most of the tree was covered. And then the rest of the traditions had to be taken care of, if Nicolette disappearing after a few minutes with a determined “be right back” was any indication.

She had let out a full-on shriek after a while that they heard from the basement that had John fairly concerned until she had come barreling back into the room , yelling that ‘they had them’ and then running off again.

A couple of days where she kept on disappearing later, she had joined John and Cal who were content sitting in front of the tree with two mugs in hand. John gave an experimental sniff and wanted to scoff. It was… barely hot cocoa judging by the smell, but there was a certain rawness to it. One of the preserved gardens in one of the bunkers must’ve had cocoa beans and someone else had something on how to make the stuff. He had tried it when Cal had given him a questioning look, and gave a quick nod when he found it wasn’t terrible.

Cal had tried it and his face lighting up had made the whole thing worth it, even if he was still convinced that his son was more happy to be included in the thought than anything.

The nights that followed had ended like that each time- the three of them, occasionally joined by Sharky. John and Cal had listened when Nicolette and Sharky told old stories about Christmas shenanigans and old traditions. It was bittersweet, considering they both seemed to realize some of the people involved in those stories were most likely gone now, but the nostalgia around them lessened the blow.

Christmas morning came and went a few days later, and that night left them with a massive cleanup, considering they had hosted a party for a good chunk of the survivors in the area. Once that was done, the three of them returned to the tree again- Sharky was distracted with the new flamethrower in perfect condition Nicolette had come across in a bunker a couple of weeks back, and Cal had his own gift- a wooden plane, designed after Affirmation tucked under one arm. It had been a joint effort between Earl and John. John had gone to him when he had seen the other man whittling a design in some wood to pass time and had made the request for a plane for Cal, and Earl, laughing all the while had agreed. John had attempted to help where he could with the carving, and it ended up being a decent bonding experience between the men. Still, John had been nearly moved to tears when Cal opened it he saw Earl had taken it the extra step and added some of Affirmation’s details onto the plane.

Cal himself had been none the wiser to the deeper meaning with it, but he clearly loved it, considering he was out cold, under the tree, practically wrapped around it.

John, in turn, was just about wrapped around Nicolette, perfectly content just watching the firelight bouncing off the decor on the tree, as well as illuminating Cal’s smile that he still had, even in his sleep.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he mused, again, guarded and yet not, all at the same time.

Nicolette turned slightly to look up at him. “See? Told you. That’s the feeling you’ve been missing.”

“I’ve never doubted you. Just… been skeptical. Of myself more than anything.”

“Well, don’t be,” she replied.

“Why didn’t I think of that solution?” John countered. She elbowed him in the ribs, and he sighed. “Which reminds me… you need to go take another look at that tree.”

Her smile faded. “We said no gifts except for him.”

“No, _you_ said that. And I went the ‘hyper romantic and super cheesy route’ as you called it when I-” he stopped short and looked at Cal. They still didn’t tell him any of their history- didn’t know where to start, how to start, or if they even would. “When I insisted that you sparing my life, giving me all of this,” he motioned from her, between them, and then a wide gesture at the house that clearly meant what it stood for then the physical object, “was enough of a gift for a lifetime. I made no such arrangement about giving to you.”

“Jooooohhhhnnnn,” she sighed. “What happened to ‘the best gift isn’t-”

“Use my words from back then against me one more time and I’m gonna take _them_ back,” John cut her off. “Technically I’m still going with my own rule here. Humor me,” he insisted. He motioned at the tree again for good measure.

She wandered over to it. After a mock game of “hot or cold” that John had started, she had stared at the middle of the tree for a solid couple of minutes, even with John’s continuous encouragement before she had finally found what he wanted to, with the objects glinting in the firelight again. She gawked at it for a while. “Those are _rings_.”

“They are.”

She cast an uncertain look back at him. “Look, not that you didn’t start off with a damn good gift for your first Christmas, but we’re _already_ married.”

“Very loose, common-law,” John corrected. “Now that the attempts on my life are distinctly few and far between, and we’re not extremely limited, that is going to change. _The_ best for _my_ best, and all that.”

She beamed at him. “You just wanna do all the pomp and circumstance again. I mean, technically you already have gone all out wedding decor-wise for me.”

“... I was aiming for the more traditional baptism feel,” John countered.

“There was a _wedding arch_ , John.”

“Details. Are we getting full-on married or not?”

“Can you ask me a little nicer? Because you dropped the ball on that the last time, too.”

John scoffed. “Nicolette Raylan, will you-”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Heathen,” he accused, but she was already across the room and sealing that particular acquiescence with a kiss a moment later before she turned to get the rings off the branch.

As far as first official Christmases went, John wasn’t ever going to complain.


End file.
